Was It Always Laudamus Te? Poem by elysabeth faslund

The bitter cold, the sweeping winds
Off the Tels...what did our fathers'
Have to teach us...
Beware of the hungry...not the meek,

Or cold.

Father. Do you hear me. Do you still
Have mortal ears...tell me what I
Spoke, that was not in Heaven's ear...
Father. Have you forgiven me....for
I have not forgiven you...and, cannot.

Once, there was a time when this could
Have been done...but why did you
Streak me with your blood? Why
Let drops damn the Earth....what did

I do...what did I see...what did I feel?
For your sake I was Mortal. For your
Sake I was impure...tell me here and
Now who was wrong...I am long past

Feeling anything. Except, the blood
Of others at my feet, on my hands...
Into an Emergency Room...for their
Good...OH GOD! ! Not mine....

Too late...much too late for
Me.